What I Wouldn't Do
by amirmitchell
Summary: fame au where maya's a popstar that is trying her best and lucas is a ranger rick that just wants her to be happy
_**with my hiatus from dear john im trying to knock all of these oneshots i have rotting away out of my docs so i hope you enjoyed it i dedicate it to lily bc this was her fave of all my aus**_
 _ **also as always show your friends and comment and kudos and review and all that good stuff thx**_

* * *

They meet each other the day that she comes to rehearse her guest starring role on his show and they immediately click. It's an exciting event, obviously; Maya Hart, teen icon, greeting him with her hand out and a giant smile on her face. Lucas is living his dream.

Well, okay. Maybe his dream had always been to star in movies or on HBO, not particularly a children's educational series that was targeted at eight year olds, but he was on TV no less. How was he supposed to control his big break being the role of a ranger with a charming little accent and likable face? It was even named children's series of the year on their local network Emmys! _His dream_ , he'll still tell you, _he's living his dream._

Plus, being on a popular kid's show meant that he got to meet all types of celebrities for bits they would do. None of his other friends back in Texas got to throw a Fire Safety Fiesta with Angelina Jolie or do the S'mores Shimmy with Derek Hough.

Hell, here he is, having arguably the biggest pop star of this generation appear on his show for an _entire week,_ and Zay is probably in class learning formulas for triangles. What a loser.

The first thing that he notices about her is that she's a lot smaller than he's imagined. (Not that he's imagined her.) (He has.) She has heels on, but he's still got a good half a foot on her. It's just a simple observation. Another thing is that she's absolutely stunning which is entirely expected because, of course, he's seen her photo. He doesn't live under a rock. She's short and gorgeous, but she's also surprisingly... normal. She doesn't have this huge posse surrounding her, only one person with a clipboard. She's the first celebrity that he ever sees walking in playing around with her publicist and sneaking a Rice Krispie from the catering table. He doesn't even feel the normal jitters going to greet her that he typically gets approaching a much higher listing star than himself, which she definitely is.

"Hey, I'm-"

"Oh, I know," she cuts in excitedly. " _If you're lookin' to learn or for lots of fun havin', come on down to Ranger Roy's cabin_." She sings the old theme song with more eagerness than probably some of the kids and he can't help but find it cute. "I'm sorry, Ranger _Rick's_ cabin," she corrects. "I was on this show when I was younger, back when Roy was head of the forest."

Lucas can't say he's entirely shocked. She isn't the first guest to waltz in singing the previous version of his song. He used to watch Ranger Roy's Cabin religiously, which only made being able to play his son who took over after he retired even better.

"I probably look like a giant dork," Maya says with a scrunched nose. "I'm excited to be here."

"I was a huge Roy fan and, trust me, I've seen worse," His green eyes assure her into ending the topic with an embarrassed blush. "I'm Lucas, by the way."

"Not Rick?" The blonde gasps, draping an arm to her chest to feign shock. "Way to ruin the illusion, Huckleberry. How will I sleep at night now?"

"If it helps, the accent is real. True Texan, roots and all."

"I guess Huckleberry will be sticking then. I'm Maya."

Before he can properly shake her hand, they turn their heads to a voice booming, "Ms. Hart! We need you to review this segment!"

Lucas chuckles at the slump of her shoulders and groan, walking towards her publicist. She shakes her head as she goes on about them knowing each other for thirteen years and an exasperated, "Missy Bradford, if you don't call me by my first name I will fire you right now!" leaving her lips step by step. Her arms shove Missy roughly as she's egged on with the title.

It's refreshing to him. She's... fun. It isn't that other guests aren't fun or anything because they are, but they're fun on camera. She hasn't even been on camera and he has a smile plastered to his face that wasn't leaving any time soon with her around. He hadn't met anyone in Los Angeles that he felt at ease with so quickly, and here she comes; her smile somehow making him feel like he's back home with all of his friends watching impossible skateboards tricks that they'd definitely try regardless.

He can't help but hope that they become friends out of this, and he doesn't doubt that they will because he catches her wink at him before she truly falls out of sight and hears a shouted, "Catch ya in the forest, HeeHaw."

.

"Dude, that's Maya Hart," Farkle tells his best friend with wide eyes as he greets him for lunch. He points to the blonde approaching them from across the lot outside his set. "Like the famous pop star Maya Hart. I can't breathe right now."

"I know, she's visiting the cabin this week."

"Wow, do you think we could get her to visit my laboratory?"

Farkle stares in awe while the blonde beauty makes her way over to them. It's moments like this that Farkle's glad he and Lucas became friends back when Ranger Rick's Cabin was starting up. Everyone was worried that the show wouldn't catch on after such an iconic character leaving, but it did and their friendship only grew after Lucas's pilot was a success. They bonded over dreams of starring in Disney Channel original movies before they ended up wearing costumes for elementary schoolers. Plus, as shown today, Lucas and his freaky face always got the better half of the celebrity guest lists and Farkle was taking advantage of that as long as Lucas let him.

"Huckleberry," Maya grins, nodding towards his companion as well. "Professor, pleasure to meet you."

"Do you spend all your time watching shows made for toddlers?" Lucas teases with a smirk.

Farkle can hardly believe it. Lucas, his best friend Lucas, is standing in front of him and teasing the most famous and simultaneously beautiful girl he's ever been in the same room as ever.

"Ha-hurr, Mr. Texas can make jokes now. You should definitely drop this gig for your standup career."

And Maya Hart, the famous and talented Maya Hart, is teasing his best friend Lucas back.

"I mean, I get that you're the size and all, but..."

The singer lets out a hard laugh before rolling her eyes, not even justifying the comment with a response. She turns and greets Farkle with a grin as wide as the one she used on Lucas, "I really do like your show, a lot more than I like _certain_ outdoorsy themed ones. My best friend has a little brother. We're always doing the at home experiments together and making messes on her kitchen table."

"I...uh... I-I..." Farkle gapes at the fact Maya Hart not only knows he exists, but watches his show. She takes time out of her life to watch him do science experiments.

"Uh, HeeHaw? Is he okay?"

"Yeah," Lucas nods, patting Farkle's back. "Just gotta give him a second."

"Well, okay," the girl muses, "I'm just going to go get some food. I'll catch up with you guys later. It was really great meeting you..."

"Farkle," Lucas cuts in for the silent third of this conversation.

"Ooh, tough break." Maya flashes an apologetic shrug and brushes between them towards the exit.

"Lucas," Farkle blinks with a small voice.

"Yeah, buddy?"

"I was just touched by an angel..."

.

There are many things that Lucas learns the night after he meets Maya Hart from a quick Google search and a not-so-quick article binge on her entire life. He reads all about her big debut as a singing camper on Ranger Roy's Cabin when she was seven. (She sang 'The Marshmallow Song' and he probably played that clip over forty times.) He also finds out that her mom was a major celebrity in the eighties and nineties. Katy Hunter, then Hart, starred in tens of tens of movies during her career... all in which he had on DVD in his living room in Texas.

Go figure that his mama would be Maya's mom's biggest fan.

Lucas sits and watches videos for hours to learn useless little facts that only he and all of J-14's online fan base know about her like that her favorite color is blue and she's obsessed with chocolate and she broke her arm falling off a swing when she was ten-but no matter how much research he did, no source described the cute little snort Maya has when she tries to scoff and laugh all at once or her freckles all over her face or the dimples that show when she calls him those little nicknames she finds oh-so-clever. He learns more in one day of working with her than any reporter could show him in a lifetime, and that's the most valuable piece of intel that he picks up all night.

"Oh, Lucas! You did not tell me that this Maya girl is so sweet! I was just telling about how excited you must've been for her to be here because of those little poster photos you had of her in your sock drawer!"

The internet also does not warn him that she would meet his mama the next morning after hardly meeting Lucas himself, and said mama, if he could even call her that anymore, would expose his masturbatory fantasies from when he was _fourteen_ to the actual girl that he thought of during... well, _that_.

"Sock drawer, hm, Sundance?" Maya throws a cocky smirk at his boiling cheeks before his mother continues. It wasn't his fault, really. He didn't even listen to her music. He only took the posters from Samantha Roger's binder during biology freshman year. Maya was a beautiful blonde in a magazine. Who could blame him? Again, he was _fourteen_.

"Oh yes! I found it oh so silly! I was just his lil ol' mama who loved a good movie back in the days before my baby boy, and then I clean his room to find out that he's a fan of Ms. Katy Hart's own little one! I was tickled pink."

"Isn't that just precious?" Maya coos, a scheming glint in her eyes as she nudges Mama Friar. "I feel like you weren't the only one tickled, though. He's never told me how big of a fan he is."

Lucas blushes with slanted eyes, his hands running through his hair awkwardly. This could not possibly get any worse.

"Oh! My mom and I should have you over for dinner!" Maya offers and Mama Friar's eyes bulge in excitement. "She was so excited I was making an appearance on the revamp since Ranger Roy was such a name in my home growing up, and if you're a fan of her, I'm just sure she'd love to meet you."

He is wrong. It could get worse. It's actually getting rapidly worse.

"Yes! Lucas, why don't you wear that cute little Katy Hart top that you have?" And how could he forget the throwback tank that his mom bought him? The one with Maya's mom in a bikini plastered across the front sitting in his closet as they spoke. "She can sign it! Oh, and we'll have to grab those little posters in your drawer, too."

"Oh." Blue eyes meet green with amusement whirling in them. "They're still in his drawer? How dedicated."

Hell, at this point, the entire conversation is a lost cause.

.

Lucas's first experience with tabloid paparazzi is simultaneously the most frustrating and intimidating event in his life. There's hoards of men demanding a smile and answers to questions about Maya and all he wants is some fucking frozen yogurt, but they're starting to crowd his path. It's kind of terrifying if he's being honest.

Scratch that. It's actually really terrifying.

So terrifying in fact that he plans on seeing Maya caught off guard with fear stricken through her because she's just so tiny and wide eyed, but when he checks? Nope. She's as calm as ever and he's astonished because _Jesus Christ, is she calm._

He thinks that maybe it's just different because he's an _educational_ TV star. He's not an A-lister. He's not featured in magazines. Maya's spit could probably be auctioned off online for thousands of dollars, and he wouldn't get that much for his collection of baseball cards from the sixties that his dad gave him. No one above the age of ten even knows who he is, so grown men with blinding lights screaming shit around him _rightfully_ catches him a bit off guard.

 _"_ _Maya! Your comment on your mother possibly returning to the big screen?"_

 _"Is this your new boyfriend?"_

 _"We heard that Steven has moved on with another pop icon, what do you have to say to that?"_

 _"Is it true that you're planning to abandon your music career for acting?"_

 _"How're you holding up after the breakup?"_

 _"Any comment on your parent's alleged divorce?"_

In Lucas's words exactly, the entire shabang is a total doozy and really unnecessary. "I just want to get frozen yogurt. That's all I want." He sighs to her when they finally reach the tiny shop.

" _A doozy_? What, Huckleberry, never seen a camera before?" The tiny blonde teases, flashing one final grin to the cameras before texting Missy to have someone get them from the back entrance of the parlor to avoid that on their way back to rehearsal.

"That doesn't bother you? Isn't it... I don't know...unsettling?" Lucas is surely unsettled. He's beyond unsettled. He's unsettlingly unsettled.

"What, the paps?" Maya shrugs a bit, her eyes drifting towards the men desperate for photos of them. "I mean, yeah, it's annoying, but they're just guys trying to make some money." She tries to keep a positive tone while explaining herself. "Maybe not all of 'em, but some have kids at home they're trying to feed. They have bills to pay or debt on debt on debt to settle. If they have to sell a picture of me getting yogurt to do so, then so be it. It can be uncomfortable at times, but...all that matters at the end of the day is that I know the truth, y'know?"

Lucas decides that Maya is one of the most amazing people that he's ever met right then and there. They've known each other all of three days, and it's not secret that she's gorgeous, funny, cute, sweet, challenging, and now, as he finds out, insightful. She's everything a boy dreams of and more, and he gets the privilege of treating her to frozen yogurt while trying to think of jokes that'll get her dimples to show in a laugh. How lucky is he?

"I can't control what they say, but I know what the truth is and that's all I need for my peace of mind."

"You're a lot more than what those pictures show." His comment is unfiltered. She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth in a smile at the genuine tone of his voice.

She's sure she'll regret it, but the skip in her heartbeat tells her that she's going to be telling Riley all about his adorably dopey grin that he wears while he compliments her as soon as she gets home.

.

"You're _in love,"_ Riley beams opposite Maya. They're both _c_ lad in pajamas with bowls of ice cream in their laps on the Matthews' couch, a typical three am occurrence for the pair.

"I am not in love. We're friends, Riley. I can have friends."

"Maya, you hate making friends. Every time you leave and I tell you to use your manners and be nice to people, you ask why because you don't need any new friends. You have me."

"I do not do that." She does. Maya has used that excuse since she'd started kindergarten, and it's still a regular in her vocabulary.

"Peaches," Riley deadpans, her eyes narrowing at the lie.

"Okay, fine, but he's just..."

"Gorgeous? Funny? Unbelievably sweet to you? Southern? Also in show business? Able to deal with your nonstop sarcasm? Probably your soulmate?"

Maya groans obnoxiously. "This is the last time that I make a new friend. Hell, maybe now I can drop you and he can take your place since you're falling in ranks."

The brunette spoons ice cream into her mouth with a shrug. "If you're not marrying me, I'm fine with it being him."

Maya can't find a comeback to the response she's given. She doesn't even know how much she can deny any feelings for him to Riley considering they've had many discussions on what a babe he is after Auggie forced them into marathons of his show. Everything she loved about watching him on TV only intensified in person, and she told Riley that the night after she met him.

"So what if I possibly have a borderline, minuscule crush on Lucas?" There are no words to describe Riley's excitement bubbling to her smile at that fact. " _Possibly_ ," Maya warns, "It doesn't even matter. I film my final segment tomorrow afternoon and then I'm done there."

"You have to ask for his number," her best friend responds as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "...but you won't."

"What?"

If Riley Matthews knows one thing about her best friend, it's that reverse psychology is her kryptonite.

"You won't ask him. You're too scared."

"I am not scared to ask him anything!" Maya falls right into her trap, her eyes forming a glare. "I'll ask him first thing."

"Bet?" Riley's hand is out and in the blonde's grasp before Maya's mind can catch up to her scheme.

"Bet- oh... wait." A softened expression travels from blue eyes to a knowing smile. "I see what you did there." She gives tiny nods to Riley's beaming expression. "Not bad, Matthews. Not bad at all."

Riley smiles bashfully, swatting her hand at the compliment. Maya used to convince her dad into letting the three of them plus Shawn have a best friend brownie eating contest in the middle of the night when they were kids to prove which pair could tag team half a tray quicker. Cory and Shawn always got too tired, so the girls won and spent at least an hour watching cartoons and devouring sweets while their parents snored from the table.

"Well, I learned from the best."

.

He knows he's in deep when he starts getting flustered at the thought of her.

"I'm the Professor, and this has been..."

It starts with Lucas leading a cheering crowd of kids in the closing of his best friend's show, an inharmonious 'Professor Minkus's Experiment Extravaganza!' filling the air.

It's a tradition. Every other Tuesday, Lucas and Farkle trade off crashing each other's sets at the ends of their live tapings. They'd been doing it for almost two years, no strangers to the change in scene.

"Oh, Ranger Rick!" A few kids call, drawing his attention. "Ranger Rick! Could I take your picture?"

Now these are the types of paparazzi that he likes; Cute little first graders with missing teeth and a fairly limited pop culture knowledge. He signs a few posters before he and Farkle bid farewell to their adoring bunch, immediately racing towards the catering table.

"No Maya today?" Farkle asks, popping a few pretzels into his mouth and slipping off his lab coat.

He feels his heart racing at even the mention of her name. "Nah, she's coming in like an hour to film. Or whatever. Because I'm not keeping time." He tries to shrug nonchalantly, but he ends up jerking his arm so harshly that he thinks he might've dislocated his shoulder.

"That rough?" his best friend asks.

Lucas nods pitifully. "That obvious?"

"Well, statistically speaking, with all the cute girls that've been involved in your life, including exes, you manage to injure yourself trying to seem, quote unquote, "cool" about... 83% of the time."

"Hm. Not as bad as I thought it'd be," Lucas nods before putting on a pleading look. "Tell me the formula for not making a complete fool out of myself when she comes to film today."

"Well, that's easy. Take any situation where you and Maya are left to hold an actual conversation, _x_ , and then subtract yourself, _z_ , from it. You'll get a perfect result, better known as _y,_ every time! _x - z = y!"_

"Gee, thanks, buddy." Lucas runs his hand through his hair with a deep sigh. He just needs to manage to not spend any time alone with Maya that's in front of the camera to avoid becoming a giant idiot in her eyes. Or better yet, he should just throw himself into traffic now because he's as good as gone.

After this afternoon, Maya Hart will never want anything to do with the complete and utter loser that is Lucas Friar.

.

"Okay, so you're telling me that Riley Matthews spends her Saturday mornings watching Ranger Rick's Cabin with you?" Lucas scoffs at Maya's claim, rolling his eyes because she's obviously trying to mess with him. Riley Matthews is arguably one of the most intelligent activists of their generation. She does not watch his children's show between feminist lectures across universities, writing and traveling for novels and photography, and running tens of nonprofits countrywide. It's not plausible.

"I'm serious," Maya argues from her end of the camera. She'd gotten his number when she'd wrapped her segment the previous week, and four days later, they'd progressed to facetiming so that Lucas could show her that he could totally balance ten marshmallows on his nose.

He couldn't, but whatever. It was an excuse to facetime and it set the pattern for the nights like tonight so they could video chat just because.

"Okay, prove it." He knows that they're best friends and all, but she is definitely trying to fuck with his head. She is trying to inflate his ego to bring it down. Obviously.

"Fine, I will," Maya shrugs, his mouth slightly dropping as he watches her walk for a minute before a shiteating grin spreads and she switches cameras. "Oh, Riles?" She sings into a bedroom, a girl looking up from her book with wide eyes.

 _Well, fuck,_ Lucas mentally sighs.

"Yeah, Peaches?" Riley responds, her eyebrows bunching at the phone pointed at her. "Are you putting me on Snapchat? Maya, I swear if you are trying to get ugly pictures to edit and embarrass me, I will spread your old jazz videos _everywhere_."

"Jazz videos?" Lucas asks, a grin of his own spreading as Riley's eyes go wide.

"Oh, you're talking to someone?" Riley pauses and thinks for a moment before her entire face lights up. "A special someone? You're talking to someone other than me for the first time ever? You made a friend that you're talking to now on video with your makeup still on at eight at night? A special friend that I am almost certain that you have spoken a few words about these past few nights? Does this friend happen to have dreamy ey-"

"Riley! I have a question for you!" Maya cuts in, hoping that she'd stop embarrassing her. "Do you watch Ranger Rick's Cabin?"

"Oh! That must be Ranger Rick on the phone! I forgot that you were on his show and you still talk to him even if it was forever ago..." the brunette starts coyly. She didn't forget. Maya knows that she didn't forget because she was just as excited as Maya when she got the gig with, quote unquote, 'Ranger Roy's babe of a replacement.' She was the one encouraging talking to Lucas beyond her guest role. Plus, it wasn't even forever ago. It's only been like a week since she wrapped that project.

Maya's eyes go wide at the mischievous glint in her best friend's eye. "Hey, Peaches, you remember when Mr. Friar first took over for Ranger Roy? And you printed out that promo picture and..."

Maya violently taps her phone to switch back to her face, her crimson cheeks accompanying a glare. "No, Riley, I most certainly-"

"...You taped it right next to your be-"

Just as quickly as she'd entered the room, Maya had hung up on Lucas.

.

They don't talk to each other until the next day.

Well, no.

Maya doesn't talk to him until the next day.

Lucas tries and tries to talk, but after hanging up, she doesn't answer when he calls back and his texts go unresponded to. He tucks his phone away after twenty minutes with hope that they'll work it out.

Though the only reason he's able to shrug it off is because they have breakfast plans, and that's Maya's favorite meal so he _knows_ that she won't miss it.

Lucas is waiting for her by six in order to guarantee that she doesn't stop by without him there. They planned for seven, but he wants explanations to her ignoring him. He wants to fix whatever had gotten messed up. He needs to fix it. He doesn't want to not talk to her. As a matter of fact, she's the only one he ever really even wants to talk to anymore. He needs to fix it all because she's working her way into his mind every second of every day and it would really suck to have to push her out.

When Maya does show up, she's singing loudly with her eyes closed and earbuds in, obviously unaware of the volume of the tune leaving her lips. She doesn't stop until she's swatted with Missy's clipboard and Lucas sees flashes of her blush that he adored the night before.

He decides to run up to her and approach her first to say good morning. He even grabs a donut first to offer in peace. She'd obviously gotten uncomfortable the night before, right? He spent almost twenty minutes coming up with that reasoning while waiting for her. That's why she never called back. He had pushed his boundaries a little and he was wrong for that. He planned on apologizing and promising to watch his place to avoid any misunderstandings they could face.

He'd probably put himself on too strong. He shouldn't have challenged her. He was flirting, but who could blame him? A gorgeous, talented, funny, challenging girl showing up with sparkly eyes and such a beautiful smile that-

No! Not an excuse. Her beauty was no reason to make her feel uncomfortable and he was wrong. He needs to make it right. If she hadn't been uncomfortable, she would've definitely called back. God, why did he fuck this up already?

"Huckleberry!" Maya greets with a sleepy grin. "I was just about to look for you. Sorry I disappeared last night. I ended up wrestling with Riley and my phone got lost in her bed and we spent all night searching with no success, so yeah. Sorry. I felt awful. I was gonna text you from her phone before I realized she didn't have your number, and- ooh! Do we have donuts today?"

Lucas stares a bit in surprise. He'd spent the entire morning amping himself up for redemption, but Maya completely shuts that down in two seconds. She takes the donut from his hand and bites as much as she can with one go before giving it back.

"I...uh, okay," Lucas stammers, face bunched as he focuses on her carefree expression. So maybe he didn't fuck this up?

"You okay, Sundance? You look a little lost. Searchin' round for the local county fair or cattle pageant?" Her tease accompanies a thick accent she paints on for his ears.

"Okay, I do not talk like that."

"I beg to differ." She scrunches her nose at him before stepping up and blowing a soft, "Ha-hurr," against his straight face. He smirks with wide eyes as she invades his personal space, not stepping back in the slightest.

"Do you actually listen to me talk?"

"Gad night a livin'!" she wails, "Don't go off with your pistol half cocked there, Ranger Rick!" She earns a laugh from the few people around them, only getting the shake of his head as he starts getting them bowls of cereal.

He almost hopes she never finds her phone.

.

"She hates sushi," Riley warns him one day. They've reserved the local community center gymnasium for the afternoon, and Maya and Farkle are chasing each other around like children while Riley and Lucas sit on the sidelines, their friends' laughter echoing through the vacant room.

"What?" he asks, cocking his head in her direction.

"Maya." Riley adds in, "She hates sushi." He only gets a tiny nod in before she continues. "Her favorite color is aquamarine because she likes how it sounds, and when she eats ice cream, she has to mix it all in the bowl until it melts enough to the consistency of a milkshake. When you watch scary movies with her, she pretends not to be afraid, but she will sleep with the light on after, and she's terrified of turtles. No one knows why, she just is."

He's not entirely positive why she's telling him all of this, but he listens anyway, his eyes locking on the mess of blonde hair sprinting towards Farkle eagerly in a game of tag.

"Her favorite time of the day is around sunset because everything turns gold. She likes to draw then, and when she draws, she'll stay silent for hours so you have to go check to make sure she's alive every so often. And when you see her cry, you can't try to pry answers out of her. You have to just let her get it out. It happens every few months because she just builds up all this pressure in her poor little mind and her gears stop turning for a good hour or so resulting in a sort of meltdown. You're going to need to know this stuff."

"Why is that?" he questions, earning a smirk in response.

"Because I've seen the way that you look at her," she admits softly, "and I've seen the way that she looks at you, too."

He doesn't respond, his teeth catching his lip as he wonders exactly what she means by that.

"Oh!" Riley beams, "And I almost forgot the most important thing: She sings."

"Of course she sings," he says dumbfoundedly, "She's a popstar."

" _No_ ," Riley persists, "She _sings."_ He blinks at her, nodding his head because he was aware of the fact that Maya, a singer, actually does what she's paid to do. "It seems almost surreal at first. She's just sitting there- just plain Maya with her little nose and her big ol' eyes- and then she opens her mouth and it's… magical. It's like you blink and just plain Maya is replaced with an angel, belting out hymns of love and heaven and everything beautiful in this world, even if it is little lyrics muttered under her breath."

He hasn't seen it yet. He's come close, and he knows he has because his chest constricts when he pictures her softly humming during everyday activities, a habit he witnesses nearly every time they're together. He's going to just agree in response before a phrase catches his mind that Riley had used, one that he'd never even put in the same realm as the blonde beauty. "I don't think I've ever seen her as _just plain Maya_."

A soft sigh escapes before she laughs fondly, standing up from the bleachers and grinning down at him. "Of course, you haven't."

.

A routine develops between them before either teen can even notice, their lives weaving together seamlessly within only three months of their first meeting.

The weekdays, Lucas spends early morning to late afternoons filming and rehearsing segments for his show while Maya does her usual array of studio time, splitting with various appearances here and there on radio shows and talk shows- more often than not running her schedule much later than him, but still managing to get in a facetime call with Lucas before bed one way or another. Despite the teasing of their best friends, they don't see the big scandal in wanting (needing) to talk before they sleep.

On Fridays, Riley chooses a different charity banquet to drag Maya, Lucas, and Farkle to. Yeah, the amount of photographers trying to catch Lucas and Maya together is exhausting, but they have fun between the amazing buffets that line the extravagant halls and beautiful performances throughout the night. Between Riley almost always delivering a speech and Maya just being in attendance, it's amazing press for them both and a chance for Lucas and Farkle to get their names out there a bit more.

Saturdays are Maya's strictly studio days, usually secluding herself in the booth from dawn 'til dusk, not minding to get any food or rest until it's forced upon her. In return, Lucas makes the habit of accompanying her. He uses the time that she's recording to do schoolwork and always makes sure to force a meal or two into his blonde beauty in between tracks. There's a rumor that he even once got her to nap mid afternoon, but Riley doesn't believe it.( _"_ _I've been trying to get a nap in her during Studio Saturdays since we were_ ** _twelve_** _, Lucas. You're telling me she just told you okay?!"_ )

Every Sunday night becomes family dinner night; family, of course, referring to the group of teenagers now labeled in the media as the "Core Four". Between the planet's hottest pop icon, youngest face of activism, and two most adored educational stars, everyone is dying to be one of them or join them.

Maya finds it ridiculous, rolling her eyes at every headline involving them and asking who in their right mind would ever want to be friends with Potato Johnson. He tries to remind her that she is indeed one of his closest friends, but it's a lost cause because she's already started singing the cowboy blues at the top of her lungs.

(It doesn't bother him as much as he tries to make it seem.)

.

They have frequent candy store dates, except they're not really dates because Maya and Lucas are _not_ dating _._ They're simply two friends out having a good time and sometimes they hold hands to get through crowds because Maya is tiny and they feed each other M&Ms from the dispenser while they're shopping and one time Lucas awkwardly got turned on when he saw Maya sucking on a lollipop so they had to leave early- but the entire point of the whole thing isn't touching each other or dirty fantasies or even popping little pieces of chocolate onto each other's tongues, it's that they're only friends, and Maya can't tell if she loves it or hates it.

They cannot go an hour without talking or they feel like they're missing out on something, and she gets this tint to her cheeks when the rush of his voice hits her that's absolutely mortifying, and then there was that time that they made cake batter and ended up whipping it at each other before Lucas licked off a smudge on her neck and she sort of moaned and the entire experience was quite the adventure especially considering she had to excuse herself to take a very cold shower in _his_ bathroom. They're absolutely disgusting, and it's the simultaneously the worst and best thing she has going on in her life.

She wonders if it's worse that everyone knows that they're obsessed with each other or if it's that they encourage it. Their moms get along like they've been best friends for years and always are planning their weekly nights out, and Riley refuses to let her live down her admittance that she may have a _miniscule_ crush on Lucas from forever ago, and she really can't fucking like him because the last time she had a boyfriend, he broke up with her for his drummer before telling every tabloid in the country that she was a cheating whore. It was the worst publicity she'd ever faced, and it was all because of some boy.

She came to California for her dream, and she built her name for herself on her own, and she can't let some stupid little crush ruin that. She can't let a fucking _huckleberry_ ruin that.

And she tells herself this over and over as she walks towards his set to meet him for lunch like she hasn't been reciting the same bullshit lines in her mind about shoving her feelings under a rug since their little moment in the frozen yogurt shop.

.

He doesn't like how hard she works. It's like every time he's looking at Maya, she's talking to Missy about this or emailing her producer about that or jotting down potential lyrics in her little notepad app that always seems to be open.

She is worse than anyone he's ever seen; taking a flight one morning at two to be in Georgia by six to sing by seven thirty and then fly back to LA for a meeting about a new music video she has to record by one that afternoon. Then, after a two hour meeting about her music video, she'll meet with her songwriter for three hours, finally get to eating lunch when it's time to get dinner and she passes out somewhere around midnight to usually repeat that schedule every other day.

" _I have a tour coming up, Lucas,_ " she tries to explain to him, _"_ _It's just how these things go_ ," but she's buzzing from the caffeine coursing through her veins and she can barely stay awake when they have game night with Riley and Farkle and it's even worse because on the days she has off, she's still working. That's when she's talking and emailing and jotting and everything else that she shouldn't have to worry about- even while she's supposed to be enjoying time with him or her other friends or her family because they're days **_off_** _._

 _"_ _I have a tour coming up, Lucas. It's just how these things go."_

And don't even get him _started_ on Saturdays.

.

"So, Maya, we hear that you have a new boy toy around these days?"

On _Good Morning LA_ , far too bright and early for an interrogation, Alaina's question prompts a photo of Maya and Lucas together to appear on the screens behind them- but it's not just any photo. It's **_the_** photo. The photo of all photos that her mother just _had_ to post on instagram last Saturday.

The lights are dimmed, and Lucas had tugged her onto his lap for practically a microsecond to tell her that she could have the other half of his burrito- but he was just so warm and so comfy and he smelled so good that she curled up and was out within two minutes. She was running on an hour and a half of sleep, and his hands were so safe and his shirt was so soft against her cheek that she didn't even realize she was asleep until she was waking up so that they could start heading home.

"Oh, no." Maya forces a grin, "That's not- we're not-"

"Could this possibly be a new partner after your recent breakup with Steven?"

Maya resists cringing at the mention of her ex. She'd dated an indie singer for about two years until their split a few months ago, and she swears that she's not going to talk to her mother for a year once this is through because she'd finally gotten her love life out of the spotlight until she decided to be hip and cool and document intimate moments. "Lucas and I aren't a couple."

"Oh, c'mon, Maya, we're all friends here," Alaina urges, a sly smirk on her lips that gives Maya a headache. "Our team looked him up and I have got to say, he sure is some eye candy. What a hunk, am I right?"

The crowd erupts into cheers and whistles when a shirtless photo of Lucas on a beach appears.

"I'm just saying, you sure would be lucky to be with such a man."

Maya lets out a deep sigh through her nose, deciding that the coffee in her grasp was not going to be enough to get her through the day.

.

The first time that he gets drunk is the first time he drinks at all, and he doesn't think he's ever been so happy in his life. No one is exactly sure how it happened that he was never informed of the dangers of drinks at a high profile event, but when he stumbles over to Maya in her corner booth at the party they ended up at for some Kardashian, she wastes no time in slipping his keys from his front pocket.

"Found the refreshments, did we?" Maya asks him as he inelegantly lands in the seat beside her. She probably should've warned him of the liquor usually laced in every glass, but she had been trying to give the damn huckleberry some credit.

"Did you know that they have no sweet tea here?" He says with wide eyes, the cup in his grasp getting snatched by his friend and set down. "I went up and asked if they had any sweet tea, and they said no, so I said if they had any tea at all, and then the man at the bar said we have Long Island iced tea, and I said well fill 'er up because I've been to Long Island and I've had iced tea there before. Have you ever had iced tea there before?" He gasps when she shakes her head, interlocking their fingers to pull her up before losing his balance and thudding down even closer to her. "We have to go to Long Island, Maya! Their tea is _delicious_."

She tightens her grip on his hand, giggling at the determination in his eyes when she holds him down beside her. "No, I think we're okay right here for a little bit. At least until I get some water into your system."

Lucas nods like a child, his face a little flushed from the excitement of the party all around him. It was his first big celebrity club event, he was in awe that this many people could even be allowed in one place. It had to be a fire hazard.

His attention turns to his palm, noticing its extension to Maya's arm and grinning fondly. His gaze lingers up to her shoulder, across her chest, amongst the millions of lashes fluttering when she blinks.

He loves her. He knows it despite denying it to Farkle nearly daily. His thumb slowly skims the back of her hand before he brings it to his lips, pressing a sloppy kiss below one of her rings.

He thinks he's in love.

"What was that for?" She asks, a smirk accompanying the blush rising in her cheeks.

"You're beautiful," he slurs out, nothing but honesty in his gaze.

"You're drunk," she snorts in return, brushing off the heavy look in his eyes before she asks one of the servers walking by to bring them a glass of water.

He wonders what drinking has to do with her beauty and so he asks, but she only laughs at him and shoves his new drink into his palms.

"Just hurry up, Drunky McBoingBoing, so that we can start heading home."

.

He catches her crying one day, and she wonders if that's what it feels like to hit rock bottom.

Her sales have plummeted and so she's not making enough money and so her label is questioning even representing her anymore and her ex boyfriend is being interviewed about her because she wrote one fucking song about her breakup that made him seem like the asshole he was and the interviewers only coddle him as he whines about what a terrible girlfriend she was for his extra fifteen minutes in the spotlight.

Not to even mention how Farkle and Riley had started dating about a month before and it's only making the rumors about her and Lucas worse. Maya's trying to be happy for their friends, but it's hard because it's killing her career and it's killing her inside. She doesn't want to resent them for just being able to be happy in the public eye because he's not as famous and she's not a popstar, but she does and she hates it and she hates herself for hating them- but every outing they had now became a double date and every other magazine had started raving about Maya being on the prowl again for another victim's heart to break after hurting Steven and all of his fans began protesting her music because she's such a terrible person and all she wants to do is sing.

She can't even find the words in her throat to describe it to Lucas, but he still slides down next to her in the safety of her bedroom, and he holds her as she sobs like the broken girl she is because all she wants to do is sing.

.

They kiss for the first time that night, and everything seems to change and stay the same all at once. Like a weight was lifted only to be replaced and like the air was pumped into their lungs to be sucked right back out, but they kiss and they kiss because with the door locked and her curtains shut, it's only them in this universe.

She thinks she's in love.

.

She doesn't like to talk about that night, but when no one is looking, she steals kisses that taste like peach lipgloss and whatever food he'd convinced her into eating during the slight gaps in her schedule.

They agree not to tell anyone because it's a scandal- it's _such_ a scandal- and so they're friends, only friends.

Friends that kiss and friends that touch and friends that look at one another like there's actually hope for a white picket fence in front of their beautiful little house in some suburb off the grid.

(But there isn't, so they're friends.)

.

There's a playlist of nineties songs that Maya ends up losing her virginity to in the driver's seat of Lucas's dad's car when Lucas takes her stargazing. It's almost all Alanis Morissette, and even though she bruises her tailbone from awkwardly hitting the steering wheel, she already knows that she's gonna tell Riley that it was perfect.

It started with a simple kiss, one as they stared through the sunroof into sky of the tiny preserve they drove five hours to find, the stars easy to make out without the light pollution of their big city. She was just going to peck his lips, but somehow her hands wandered to caress his neck and he gripped her waist as she climbed over the console to straddle his hips and before all their clothes were even off, she was moaning into his ear in a way that made his head spin.

"I can't believe that I lost it to fucking Ranger Rick in his dad's Range Rover," she chuckles to him afterwards, back in her own seat with his shirt keeping her warm under the sky.

"Your virginity? You're a virgin? That's...surprising," Lucas mutters, his eyes going wide at how offensive his words ended up being.

"It's surprising? What are you trying to say, Friar?"

"No!" he quickly cuts in apologetically, "I just meant that it was surprising because I didn't expect you to have never had sex before, I mean I thought boys just kind of fell at your feet because you're Maya Hart and you're such a big star and you're so beautiful and I was sure that you'd at least slept with like your boyfriend or something- even though I swear I don't listen to those rumors that he spreads in those big magazines- I just didn't expect to be your first because you're just… well, you and I'm only me and I didn't mean it rudely, I just never imagined-"

She kisses him to shut him up and he becomes her second, too.

.

Riley doesn't understand them. She has been dating Farkle for months and months already and she's in love, she knows she is- but watching Lucas and Maya bicker over the stupidest things while simultaneously being obsessed with each other makes her mind completely short circuit.

"So, you're going to have a boyfriend?" Lucas asks at the dinner table, Farkle and Riley left observing the altercation.

"A _fake_ boyfriend," Maya clarifies, "for a _music video_. About _love_."

"So, you can't hang out tomorrow because you're going to find a boyfriend?"

She chuckles at his jealousy, the way his jaw is slightly clenched when she admits she won't make it to movie night. "I can't hang out tomorrow because I'm helping cast my _fake_ love interest for my _music video_."

"And why can't I be your boyfriend?"

"Because, Huckleberry, we're not dating _."_ Her words cause their friends to wince, expecting hurt from Lucas- but he doesn't seem affected at all.

"Good," he teases childishly, "I wouldn't wanna be your boyfriend anyways."

She lets out a loud laugh before he gains his own smug grin. "Good, it's not a country ballad for you to ruin with your stupid looking face."

"Well, you have a stupider looking face."

"You have the _stupidest_ looking face. I win, dumbass."

"Shut up, superstar."

"Make me, park ranger."

Before Riley even knows it, Lucas has his hand around the leg of Maya's chair, sliding her close enough to press a kiss to her lips in the midst of their battle- if it even was a battle.

"God, you're such an annoying little brat," he mutters against her smile.

"Takes one to know one, C-lister."

And with Farkle's hand laced with her own under the table, his lips pressing to her cheek as he reminds her to just not question it, Riley faces the defeat that she just may never understand them.

.

She's aimlessly strumming a melody, one quick and airy that he's not entirely familiar with while the sun spills from his window to her figure sitting on his mattress.

 _"_ _If we were children I would bake you a mud pie,  
warm and brown beneath the sun.  
Never learned to climb a tree but I would try,  
just to show you what I'd done."_

It's the moment- he can tell as soon as the first note leaves her lips. It's what Riley described to him all those weeks ago- but when he blinks, Maya isn't gone.

 _"_ _Oh what I wouldn't do,  
if I had you, babe, I had you.  
Oh what I wouldn't do,  
if I had you, babe."_

His blonde beauty is still planted in front of him, her hands working the strings of the instrument that she keeps in the corner of his bedroom. (She's started keeping a lot of things in his room, he realizes.)

 _"_ _If I were old, my dearest, you would be older,  
but I would crawl upon your lap.  
Wrap a blanket round our frail little shoulders,  
and I'd die happily like that."_

Her eyelids are fluttered shut and her body is completely at ease, painted hues of pink shimmering from the sun. And she's _singing_. She's fucking _singing._

 _"_ _Oh what I wouldn't do,  
if I had you, babe, I had you.  
Oh what I wouldn't do,  
if I had you, babe."_

She's ethereal, and she's wonderful, and she's so, so, so fucking beautiful. His hand threads through her hair, tucking falling strands behind her ear with a soft smile.

 _"_ _So lace your hands round the small of my back, and I will kiss you like a king."_

He wants to say 'I love you' right then because he does, he's sure of it, but he's afraid if he opens his mouth that she'll stop and he never wants her to stop.

 _"_ _I will be your bride, I'll keep you warm at night  
I will sing, I will sing."_

.

Their first fight is devastating to him , and he hopes that it's their last. (He knows it's not, but he hopes.)

"My tour is going to be worldwide this summer," she tells him one night over facetime, her eyes avoiding his on her propped up phone while she goes through designs for the merchandise she'll sell at shows. "We finalized all the dates today. It's not going to be in just North America, meaning it'll be an extra two months or so. I'm supposed to be in Dubai for your birthday."

"Oh." Lucas frowns. They'd discussed that it'd be happening; her tour and her absence and the fact that they should really try to spend less time together to soften the blow when she does take off, but it was all just ideas then. "Well, how long is it going to be? We can just make it up when you get back. You're leaving in- what? June, yeah? These things can't take more than like two or three months. Well, four or five with more countries, but that only means you'll be back here by November. My birthdays only in the beginning of October, it's not a huge deal."

Maya purses her lips, unsure if she even wants to admit to the amount of time she's going to spending on the road. "Well…" she starts, her teeth pulling on her bottom lip anxiously, "Not exactly that quick…"

"Oh. December then? Jeez. That's working you a little hard, but I guess that's show biz."

"Huckleberry…"

"That's only two months, though. So it's not too far off."

"Sundance…"

"I mean- not preferred, but what're you going to do?"

"Lucas," she snaps. His eyes go wide as she softly informs him of her plans. "A typical tour season for me is about eight months. With the new venues, it means that I won't be getting back until late April."

His mouth forms a thin line while his eyes try to find hers through the screen, searching for any sign of a joke. She couldn't possibly have to tour for ten months. "That's like… almost a year, Maya. Why would they do that to you?"

Her eyebrows bunch together at his question. "What do you mean why would they do that to me? They're not doing anything to me."

"They're working you like a slave," he sighs, shaking his head. "You need to call them and tell them that you can't work like that."

"Lucas, it was my choice to do the ten month tour. I'm given the option before they're scheduled, and I always go for the longer run. It's smaller venues, cheaper prices, more chances to interact with my fans. I hate being in stadiums where I can hardly see the back rows."

"Well, you can't handle ten months on the road." He argues. "You're not doing it." He's adamant about it, his voice strict and demanding.

"You can't tell me what to do."

"You can't even remember to feed yourself without me, Maya, how in the _hell_ are you going survive for ten months on the road?!"

He knows he crosses a line when her entire expression hardens, an eyebrow quirking up. "What the fuck did you just say to me?" Her entire demeanor changes, going from irritated to aggressive in seconds. "How in the hell am I going to _survive without you_? What was I doing before I met you then, Lucas? Hm?"

He doesn't like how his name sounds on her tongue this time.

"Is that what I am to you? Some chore?! Let me make sure I feed Maya, let's make sure Maya sleeps, wow I wonder if she can even cross a street on her own! Better escort her! Well- guess what! Your duty is relieved! Maybe with all this free time you'll have now, you can go fuck yourself," She spits at him before the screen goes blank and he whips his phone into his blankets in frustration.

.

She leaves without saying goodbye.

He knows that she's gone because Farkle spends an entire week consoling Riley of the emptiness she always suffers from when Maya is on tour, and whenever they facetime with her, they leave the room like hearing her voice will drive Lucas into madness.

(It will, but he won't admit that.)

.

She watches episodes of his show from her phone every morning, tucked in the back corner of her tour bus while her band shares breakfast. She considers texting him, maybe even calling, apologizing for everything that happened- but everything that happened was his fault. She didn't do anything wrong, and so he should be apologizing to her.

(She wishes they both weren't so stubborn.)

.

He spends ten months watching her through Instagram, videos and photos posted by fans that he made a fake account to follow where Maya's smile is the brightest he'd ever seen. Her eyes sparkle and her dimple pokes her cheek and she looks so fucking happy that he doesn't even think he has the strength to miss her.

While she radiates such joy, he wouldn't dare wish for her to be anywhere else in the world.

.

He doesn't spend as much time with Riley anymore because seeing Riley only reminds him of her.

She gets it, and so he thinks it'll be okay.

.

His birthday passes, and she sends him a text. A simple message that is the first contact he gets from her since their fight, and he spends almost the entire day staring at the words written on his screen.

 _Happy Birthday, C-lister._

The nickname buzzes through his veins rushing all the way to his eyes that swirl with a brighter green than the day before. He sends back a simple thanks.

(He holds the _I miss you_.)

.

Her final show is a hometown show, and she's more nervous about it than she was about performing for the president and his family. She invites him, a group text disguised as an attempted olive branch as she reminds her closest friends that she's going to be back and they all have passes to get backstage. She's tired of being upset. She's tired of wanting to hear his voice beyond the dialogue for his show.

The tour was good for her. She feels rejuvenated, her body moving lighter as she thinks about the rush of meeting so many fans, of performing such intimate venues across the globe- but she would be lying if she didn't say she was homesick.

The problem with homesick was she couldn't tell whether it was for a place or a person or maybe even both.

.

He sees her first, and he doesn't think that she sees him at all because he ducks his head behind some speakers when she looks around after greeting Riley and Farkle. She knows that he's here because he rode with them, he's sure they told her, but he doesn't know that he can meet those eyes just yet and so he cowers.

He hides throughout the whole show, actually, catching glimpses of blonde curls and short skirts flowing on the stage with a velvety voice vibrating through the walls. He doesn't want to face her. He had hoped that watching her over the months would've prepared him for actually seeing her live and in person, but it didn't, and he soon finds himself clammed up in a bathroom for the crew while the songs of the girl he loves haunt his every thought.

"C'mon, Lucas," he tells himself, his palms gripping the edges of the sink in front of him as he stares into the mirror. The concert is ending and he can make out Maya saying her goodnights from a distance. "You have to see her. You have to go talk to her. You've been miserable without her, just go and say hi. You can do that. It's only Maya. Right?"

It's a weak speech, but it's enough to get him out of the toilet and moving towards the stage again with some type of motivation to find her. His braces himself before opening the door and stepping into the frenzy of the crew cleaning her set.

Maybe the employee bathroom wasn't his brightest idea.

He wiggles between men carrying equipment, almost frantically looking for any familiar face- too busy to notice the tiny frame of Maya's opening act colliding into his chest.

"Oh my god!" the musician exclaims, "You're Ranger Rick! My little sister lives for your show!" He puts on his best grin as his eyes glance around for the top of Riley's head. "You must be back here to find Maya!" He doesn't remember the name of the girl, but he's thankful she exists as he gives her a nervous nod.

"I- uh, yeah. Could you possibly tell me where she is?"

"Yeah! Of course, she's probably still in her dressing room." Her hand flies to the air, pointing to his right. "It's around the corner, and her name is on the door. You can't miss it." There's a promise in her smile that makes him think that maybe Maya missed him, too- maybe even talked about him while traveling- but he tries not to think into it too much.

.

She doesn't see him the entire show, and she wonders if Riley was lying when she said that he came tonight. She's already out of her dress, wiping off the makeup from her eyes when she hears the click of her dressing room door.

She assumes it's Riley, not paying much mind as she pops in after every show she attends, and so she swipes the towelette over her cheek to rid of her blush before she spins around, her breath catching in her throat when she faces the intruder.

"Hey, superstar," he lets out softly, his eyes raking over her from top to bottom. She inhales deeply before she musters up a reply.

"Hey, park ranger."


End file.
